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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29569026">Can We Start Again?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddictedtoFiction03/pseuds/AddictedtoFiction03'>AddictedtoFiction03</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Blow Jobs, Canon Rewrite, EMT Ian Gallagher, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, love these boys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:34:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29569026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddictedtoFiction03/pseuds/AddictedtoFiction03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey and Ian’s relationship has never been easy. There is always something that trying to tear them apart when all they want is each other. Dads, wives, mental illnesses, prisons. They get a chance to make things right, but they need to decide if they are willing to let each other slip away or if what they have is something worth fighting for. Again.<br/>-<br/>A canon divergent post 5x10</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher &amp; Mandy Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mandy Milkovich &amp; Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Can We Start Again?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I took this story down because I felt like I wouldn't have the time to write it or give it my full attention, but this story will not leave my mind so here I am giving it another go. </p><p>This story will mainly focus on Ian and Mickey getting back together. This is a canon divergent, so I am changing several things, mostly things with Ian, Mickey, Lip, Sammi, and Mandy, for the purpose of this story. You will see the other Gallaghers too. I will include three original characters of my own who you will meet soon. One has a major part in this story, and the other two will be there when needed. This is only going to be canon-compliant up to a point in season five.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Can We Start Again Chapter One</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mickey watches the glare of red lights getting farther with distance. He can’t breathe, feels as if someone is punching him in the lungs. Mickey blinks as he wonders how the great night with Ian came crashing down like glass out of a broken window. Their plans crumbling right before his eyes. He can’t figure out what to do or what step to take. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a shame when someone you love gets taken away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey turns as the voice shatters the night and sees Sammi standing on the porch in tears. He stares at her with his mouth open, ready to fire words in her direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t it?” Sammi utters in a broken voice, turns away from them, and goes back into the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey turns, and his eyes meet Fiona’s. Her brown eyes wide with tears, and she raises her hands to her mouth. Mickey runs a hand over his mouth, feeling anger taking over the shock. He takes a shallow breath, trying to quell the urge to do something, though Mickey can’t figure out what that is. Mickey looks down the street again, but there is nothing but darkness now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God,” Fiona sobs. The tears spill down her cheeks, leaving behind wet trails to glitter in the streetlights. “Oh my God,” she repeats, sniffling as she turns around mindlessly. The event has stunned her just as much. Fiona reaches her hand into her pocket and pulls out her phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Mickey asks after several minutes of a shocking silence. He feels like he is freezing and not from the wind, either. His chest hurts like he has been plunged into ice, and his mouth feels dry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calling Lip,” Fiona weeps, fumbling the phone in her shaking hands. Her fingers move swiftly over the screen then she brings it to her ear. “Pick up. Pick up. Pick up,” she pleads desperately. “Lip! You need to come home now.” Fiona’s voice is clogged with her tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey hears the sounds of talking through the phone. It tells him that Lip answered the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Fiona whimpers to her brother. “Something happened with Ian, and you need to be here.” There are more sounds as Lip says something back. Fiona shakes her head. “No, Ian is not okay. He just got  arrested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey hears the sound of Lip’s voice raising up a notch. Fiona tells him goodbye and gets off the phone. “What are we going to do about Ian?” Mickey asks her because he doesn’t know what the fuck to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiona pockets her phone and looks at Mickey. “I don’t know, Mickey,” she swallows, wiping off her cheeks. Her eyes heat with anger. “We will figure out how to help Ian, but first, I am kicking a fucking bitch out of my house,” she says and hurries to the stairs. The wooden boards creak under her furious footsteps. Mickey is quick to follow her into the house and closes the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey turns to see Fiona storm over to Sammi, who stands in the kitchen. The rage on Fiona’s face makes Mickey wonder if he’s going to have to pull her back. The girl is out for blood, and it will not be good for the Gallaghers if two arrests happen in one night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, Sammi? Why?” Fiona screams, standing mere inches from the blond. “How could you do that to Ian?” Fiona crosses her arms, watching the woman move around the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi lifts a shoulder. “I call it an eye for an eye,” she says dismissively. The broken look from the porch is no longer shadowing her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey’s head snaps back as more anger engulfs his body at this bitch’s vindictive attack to someone he loves. “The fuck you talking about?” Mickey snarls, “An eye for a fuckin’ eye? Is that the fuckin’ excuse you’re using?” Mickey runs the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. He slides his hands into his coat’s pocket, so he doesn’t reach over to strangle the woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My kid was arrested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiona gapes at Sammi. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” she belts loudly. “You are going after Ian because of that?” Fiona demands. “Ian is not for you to use as your fuckin’ vengeance strike.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey pulls his eyes from Fiona and trails them back to Sammi. Mickey can see that she does not regret it, not even in the slightest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s too late to do anything,” Sammi gives Fiona a meaningless stare. “They have him, and fair is fair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey feels his eyebrows jerk up. “Fair is fair, my fuckin’ ass,” he flings back at once. “No way is that fuckin’ fair. It’s not Ian’s fucking fault that your kid got put in the kiddie slammer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chuckie’s is in that place because of people in this household,” Sammi tosses back. “It’s not my problem. Allow bygone to be bygones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t fuckin’ think so,” Fiona laughs humorlessly, as she glances away from Sammi, catching a deep breath. “How’s calling the army going to help your son? Chuckie is not going to benefit from this in any way. Do you realize that you just took Ian’s entire future away from him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that is Ian’s own fault,” Sammi replies to justify her deed. “I’m helping it along. The kid doesn’t have much of a future anyway. It’s nature taking its course with a little nudge,” she adds with no emotion or concern gracing her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You fuckin bitch!” Fiona growls and steps towards Sammi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey stretches an arm out, grasps Fiona’s right shoulder, pulling her back before she can touch the woman. “Easy, easy,” he tells her as she turns to glower at Mickey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get your fuckin’ hand off me, Mickey,” Fiona seethes and tries to shake him off her shoulder. Mickey tightens his grip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to calm the fuck down,” Mickey spits. “You jumping her isn’t going to make this shit any fuckin’ easier,” he adds, but Fiona’s glare only sharpens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck do you care?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doing it for Ian,” Mickey returns, shaking his head at her. “It’s the last thing he fuckin’ needs. You won’t be any help to Ian if you land your fuckin’ ass back in fuckin’ prison. His head is a fuckin’ mess. He doesn’t need you adding to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiona stares at Mickey a few seconds in surprise. “You are the one keeping your cool?” she scoffs. “Are you fuckin serious right now? She is the reason Ian is not here with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can be when it matters, and it matters now,” Mickey states firmly. “Ian is the one who matters now. Not this fuckin’ bitch,” he casts his blue eyes at Sammi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiona swallows as her resolve falls from her face. Her eyes grow hard as she turns back to Sammi. “I want you to leave,” she says, pointing to her front door. “You are not living here after this fuckin’ stunt, which will cause this family more fuckin’ stress. It burns any welcome you have to my house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fiona…” Sammi begins with wide eyes. “You are kicking me out? I am family. There isn’t anywhere I can go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Micky can’t believe that she is acting like she is the victim in this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What a selfish bitch</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks to himself. Fiona shifts beside him, causing him to look at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare try to make me feel bad. This is all your doing, and it’s the last straw for me,” Fiona barks, shaking her head. “You are leaving this house tonight, and no, you are not my family. My little brother just got tossed into the back of a car, and we have no idea where he is going because of you. You are going to leave here willingly, or I will have the police do it for me,” Mickey watches Fiona reach for her pocket, pulls her phone out showing Sammi that she is serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I need time to get my things,” Sammi tells her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will figure out a way for you to get your things,” Fiona says, taps her phone open, “and I will call because you are not spending another moment in this house. Lip is on his way here, and I don’t think you want to be here when he does,” she warns the woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lip is going to be more reasonable than you,” Sammi assays, and Fiona shakes her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Ian who is being sent away,” Fiona points out slowly. “You are choosing to hurt Ian and this family out of spite. He might not blow up, but he is going to be pissed. Lip will never admit it, but Ian is his favorite. Lip will also back me up because that is what family does for each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have any money,” Sammi tells her, trying to get her to budge on her decision. Mickey rolls his eyes so hard the movement makes his head hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not my fuckin problem,” Fiona repeats the same words Sammi said earlier. “There are plenty of shelters around here. Go find you one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi opens her mouth again, but Mickey cuts her off before she has a chance to speak. “Are you fuckin’ deaf or something? I keep hearing her telling you to fuckin’ leave, and you are not movin’ a fuckin’ inch.” Mickey turns to Fiona. “Call the fuckin’ police. Maybe they can explain it on a level she can fuckin’ understand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good idea,” Fiona grins at Mickey, moves her finger over to the call button. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine!” Sammi snaps, walking through the room and grabbing something that Mickey thinks resembles a purse. “I’m leaving,” she walks over to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Try walking a little faster,” Mickey ridicules coldly. “We can still see you, and we don’t fuckin want to. It burns our fuckin’ eyes.” Sammi glares at Mickey, showing him the finger as she opens the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thank you,” Mickey shakes his head. “You don’t have the kind of dick I like, and I like them big.” Mickey grins at her look of disgust before she walks out the door slamming the door behind her; it makes the house rattle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey hears a sound beside him and turns to see Fiona with her head in her hand. Her shoulders are shaking violently. “What?” he asks, kind of weary, hoping he will not have to deal with a crying girl. It’s something he doesn’t know how to handle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiona raises her head, and he can see that she is laughing, not crying. “TMFI,” she cackles, making Mickey raise his eyebrows at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so funny?” Mickey asks her because he wants to fuckin’ know. “Is this how you Gallaghers handle a fuckin’ crisis or something? What does TMFI mean anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means too much fucking information,” Fiona breathes heavily. “I don’t want to know about my brother’s dick size.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey feels his eyes widen as he remembers the comment he made in front of her. “Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, and she laughs only harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her face was worth it, though,” she huffs as she tries to control herself. They turn from each other as Lip comes rushing through the door. Mickey can see he has been running due to his face looking sweaty and red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is going on?” He pants, walking over to the couch, leans his elbows against it trying to catch his breath. “You better not be fuckin’ joking. What did Ian do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey watches Fiona’s face crumble as she realizes she is going to have to repeat the recent events. Mickey turns to Lip. “Not a fuckin’ thing. Your bitch of a sister, not this one,” Mickey gestures to Fiona. “Sammi decided to call the army and tell them where Ian is. It’s her idea of getting even.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lip stands up so fast, he almost loses his balance. He looks at Mickey and then to Fiona, blinking trying to grasp what Mickey is saying. “What? The army is who arrested Ian?” he stammers weakly. “Are you fucking serious? They really came to get him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Fiona chokes with tears welling her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When was this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About twenty minutes ago,” Fiona replies. “I can’t imagine what is going through his head right now. I was walking up the sidewalk, and I saw these two guys hauling Ian down the stairs and placing him into the car.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Lip breathes, pushing his fingers through his curly locks. “That fuckin’ bitch!” he spits, pacing the floor. “Did anyone ask where they are taking him?” When no one answers him, Lip looks between the two of them. “Did you guys ask them anything about what they are doing with Ian? What are they charging him with? Anything at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the charges are for the stuff Ian did while he was in basic,” Fiona tells her brother and turns to Mickey. “Do you remember them saying anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Mickey shakes his head. “Not one single fucking word. I guess when you are arresting someone, it takes your voice out of your fuckin’ throat. It makes them feel less fuckin’ guilty. I am down there shouting questions at these fuckin guys, and all the fuck they do is stay the fuck silent. It seems like army people are different from the rest of the people in this world. They don’t have to fuckin’ answer questions no matter how fuckin’ important they are,” he rants, scratching his nose with the back of his thumb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We aren’t going to have the clearance for that kind of information,” Lip says smartly as the three move into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey walks over to the table, sitting down. He shrugs off his jacket, leaving it to drape over the back of his chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey does not see how the guy is staying, so fuckin’ calm. Mickey is fucking livid. The more he fuckin’ thinks about it, the more it pisses him off. He and Ian get back after having a great time at the dugouts. Even had a good fuck to go along with it. After a few hours of talking, they decided to head back to the house, playing around like a couple of idiots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They get to the house and Ian comes up with his idea for a date and even made plans for one. Only for it to be ruined minutes later because of the surprising attack made by Sammi. Mickey clenches his fingers as he tries to picture what that date could have been like, but now he’ll never know that the outcome and possibly for good. Mickey didn’t realize how much he was looking forward to it. They all could use a break and do something fuckin’ normal for once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck does that matter?” Mickey questions. Hearing Lip talk in that smartass voice he likes to use makes Mickey want to slap him. He would love to hit something as Ian’s face flashes through his mind. The look of betrayal saying everything at that moment. “When people are trying to find out shit, you fuckin’ answer. Don’t fuckin care if you wear a special fucking uniform.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the fucking military, Mickey,” Lip says, walks over to the fridge, opening the door. “They have their own way of doing things. Their court is different from a regular court, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh sure,” Mickey snorts, watching the fucker as he reaches into the fridge. “You are fucking shaking with worry over there. You are acting like Ian isn’t any fuckin’ trouble.” Lip turns around to stare at Mickey. He can see there are words on the tip of the boy’s tongue. He wants to fuckin’ hear them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t fuckin start you two. I do not want to deal with any more fucking shit tonight,” Fiona says pointedly and covers her face while she sits down. “What are we going to do? I know nothing about the fucking military. I do know some things about the law, but not this level. I don’t believe my knowledge of family law is going to help Ian. Does he need a lawyer? How the hell are we going to afford one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lip spins around and snatches three beers from the shelf before banging it shut. It echoes throughout the house, and Lip rounds the counter to the table. “I think we can all use one of these,” he says, sliding one to Fiona, one to Mickey, and keeps one for himself. Lip pulls his pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his hoodie, draws one out, and sets it to his mouth. “Did Sammi have a reason for doing this?” he asks, while he lights it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey twists the cap off his beer, nodding. “Sammi is saying an eye for an eye,” he remarks, taking a few gulps of his drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An eye for an eye? Did she really fuckin’ say that?.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, she did. Sammi slapped us with the words right there,” Mickey quips, pointing to the exact spot. “Somewhere around there, I think,” he adds just to be a smartass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lip ignores him while sucking on his cigarette before dragging it from his mouth. “The fuck does that even mean?” he demands, breathing smoke through his lips. The fog of white lifts into the air until it disappears. “I’m still not seeing the point of all this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sammi’s lashing out at us because of Chuckie’s trip to juvie,” Fiona says, brushing a hand across her forehead. “I don’t understand why she’s even going after Ian. I want to punch the fuckin bitch. It’s like she doesn’t care who she hurts or what this can do to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lip swallows, and for the first time since walking through the door, Mickey thinks he sees some emotion in Lip’s eyes. “Ian does not need anything else on his shoulders. Hell, we don’t even need this on our fuckin’ shoulders.” Mickey sees traces of red riming his eyes. “Where is Sammi?” Lip glances around the room for the woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made her leave,” Fiona answers, holding up her hands. “I think she is too dangerous to have around. I mean, if Sammi is capable of doing this Ian, what else is she going to do? What happens if we do something that she doesn’t like? Frank pisses her off, and she shoots him. Carl gets her son into juvie, and she beats the shit out of him. Where will it end with her? Think she is the reason why you couldn’t find your letter?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not.” Lip shakes his head. “No, I found the letter. It was stuck between two magazines. I can’t tell who’s writing it is, so I don’t know who signed for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, good! Did you get it worked out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lip sighs as smoke escapes, spreading out in front of him. He taps the ashes into an ashtray. “I am good for the rest of the year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, nothing illegal happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Fiona smiles at Lip. “At least we have one good thing going for us. We do not need any more people going behind bars. I am sure you are glad about that, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lip takes a deep drag of his cigarette, nodding. “Better not push our luck, or it might come and bite us in the ass if we are a little happy about something,” he sighs sarcastically and glances over his shoulder to the living room. “Where is everyone else?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Fiona hums, tilting her head, thinking about her answer. “Ian is on his way to prison. Carl is in juvie. Sammi is not here, and that is a permanent thing. Debbie is out with her friends. And Liam, I think is upstairs sleeping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey pulls his bottle from his lips. “You don’t know where the fuck the little guy is?” he questions her. Fiona looks at him. “You are saying you think you know where he is. Not that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>know where he is. I didn’t notice him when Ian and I got back, but that is due to being too busy watching Ian getting pulled out the fuckin’ door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiona looks around the kitchen and looks up to the ceiling, pushing her hair away from her ears. She springs up from her hair and runs up the back stairs to the upper floor. Mickey can hear the sound of the floor creaking as she moves through the hall. Mickey reaches over and snatches up Lip’s pack of cigarettes and pulls one out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, help yourself,” Lip grumbles with his eyes on the pack of his cigarettes, looking a little sad that he is now one cigarette short. Well, two now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will,” Mickey sniffs, popping the cigarette to his lips and feels around for his lighter, finding it in his inner jacket pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjoy it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey flicks his lighter, moving the flame to the tip until he gets the tobacco's taste on his tongue. “I fucking am,” he mumbles around the butt, taking in a deep drag feeling the smoke fill his lungs. Usually, this calms his nerves, but it isn’t doin’ fucking shit to tame the stress he is feeling or the weight of the dread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was Ian today?” Lip asks slowly, looking at Mickey through worn eyes. He lifts his beer up to take a sip as he stubs out his fully smoked cigarette in the ashtray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey raises his eyebrows at the stupid fuckin’ question and plucks the one he is smoking from his lips. “You mean before he got fuckin’ arrested?” he snips, and the fuckin’ guy winces at his words. Micky feels, maybe, just maybe, a tad bit bad for being too sharp too soon. Lip is probably trying to make conversation to keep his mind from wandering. From all the stories from Ian about his brother, Mickey knows how close the brothers are, even when things are strained between them. The guy probably feels bad that he wasn't there for Ian when he needed him to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey knows what his mind is like from actually witnessing the sight. It’s a fuckin’ mess. He has seen his father get arrested several times, and most of those times, he felt nothing but relief that he’d be getting a break from the man for a while. But this is different. Mickey still can’t even wrap his head around it. “He smiled some today,” Mickey trails off, thinking about it. It’s something he missed. When Ian smiles, it lights up his face. It’s the first time he really has smiled since coming home from the hospital and doing it free from his current demons. He takes another drag of his cigarette</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiona comes back down to the kitchen. She changed her clothes for something more comfortable, and her hair is on the top of her head. Mickey sees the worry swirling in her haunted eyes. “What are we going to do about Ian?” she asked them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lip shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know if there’s anything we can fucking do at this point,” he breathes, sounding defeated, not knowing the answer on how to move forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t just leave him there,” Fiona points out sharply. “We need a way to get the information.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not saying that,” Lip says and pulls his phone from his pocket and looks at the screen. “It’s almost 1 in the morning, Fi. I don’t think we can find anything out this late,” he tells her, setting the device on the table. “It will have to be tomorrow before we call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey watches Fiona’s eyes grow wide as if an idea has hit her. “We can use his bipolar diagnosis as a defense. I am pretty sure that is when he started showing symptoms for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good fuckin’ luck with that,” Mickey says, and the two Gallaghers turn to him. “Ian ain’t even ready to admit to himself that he has bipolar. Do you fucking think he will tell it to a room full of fucking army people?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we have to do it,” Fiona sniffles softly. “If Ian can’t do it. We will do it for him. He might get pissed, but he’ll get over it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey swallows at the idea of hurting Ian. It is the last thing he wants to do. He knows Fiona has a point, but damn does it fucking suck. But fuck! Fuck! Fuck! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fiona turns to him. “You gonna stay the night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey pulls his eyes from the table to look at the older girl. “I ain’t fucking leaving until I know something about Ian,” he tells her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You going to pay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey narrows his eyes before stabbing out his cigarette. “My fucking payment was keeping your ass out of fucking jail tonight,” he says, blowing out his last puff of smoke. “She was going to kill her or at least try to,” he explains to Lip when he looks at Fiona. They all talked for a little while before breaking apart to try and get a little sleep. Mickey sighs when he slides into Ian’s small fuckin’ bed. His head hits the pillow, and his eyes burn for sleep, but they are never going to close, not when he hates how fuckin empty this bed feels because his fucking redhead was stolen from him tonight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<span>Sammi walks up the steps with a box in her hand. When she gets to the door, she can hear voices on the other side. She takes a breath and pushes open to see three faces glaring her way. Maybe four, but she won’t count the little one. Sammi walks through the kitchen to get to the living room when she is stopped by her family’s version of a stray. A complete waste of space if anyone asks her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me, coming through,” Sammi sings, walking through the kitchen, or trying to walk through the kitchen, only to be stopped by the fuckin thug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were told to fuckin’ leave last night,” Mickey spits with dripping venom. Sammi can feel droplets hit her face. “The fuck you doin’ here now? Did nothing that was said make sense in your fuckin screwed up brain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi can feel the others staring at her. Shooting her with knives from their eyes or hoping she can burst into flames. Sammi steels herself for the fight ahead of her and clears her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” Sammi reproaches, raising her nose to move, but Mickey blocks her path again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The door is that way,” Mickey hisses with his stupid eyebrows raising up. “You turn the fuck around, and you move your fuckin leg towards the door. You open it and go through it. That is how you fuckin walk to leave.” Mickey points to the door edging her backward, his blue eyes blazing ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck does Ian see in him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thinks to herself. Sammi reaches into her pocket and brings the gun to his face. Fiona and Debbie gasp behind him as Fiona pushes her little sister behind her. “Get out of my way you poor excuse for wet dog shit,” Sammi says as Mickey’s eyes lock on the barrel, his lips curling into a dark, daring smile. All she needs to do is cock the hammer and pull the trigger to wipe the look off his face. Not like anyone would miss the bastard. The world will thank her for doing it a favor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you have something to say, say it,” Sammi snaps crisply, raising the gun slightly to the center between Mickey’s eyes. He motions for her to go. “I didn’t think so,” she says smugly. “Now, there are things I have things I need to do today, and then I will be packing my stuff, and I will be gone by morning. Work for you?” Sammi pushes him out of her way, jabbing her elbow into him, to go into the living, throwing the gun into her box</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not soon enough,” Fiona’s snidely voice follows her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This family fucking sucks,” Sammi remarks, picking up her things as she spots them, putting them in the box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to go, or we are going to be late,” Fiona tells her crew of people, and they file out of the house, but Fiona turns around to glare at her one more time. “Don’t steal anything while we are gone,” she remarks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about that. There isn’t anything I want from this roach-infested house,” Sammi bites back, looking around the room. “I’d probably die from mold or something,” Fiona says nothing as she turns around at the sound of Debbie calling her name. The door closes, and Sammi sighs in relief at the quietness, and the chilly air lessens a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi places a few pieces of clothing into a box on the couch. She reaches for another set when someone starts pounding on the door, disrupting her workflow. Another pounding knock has her rounding the couch to answer the door, wondering if Fiona went through her threat of calling the police. She opens the door to see a man with a severely receding hairline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the hell are you?” the man gruffs her way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can ask you the same thing,” Sammi crosses her arms. She is not in the mood to be dealing with another scumbag today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I asked you first,” the man says in an annoyed tone. “I have a right to know who is living in my house. And I was never told that someone else would be moving in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Sammi,” she says, tilting her head, feeling a little confused. “Your house?” she asks him. She never knew that the Gallaghers didn’t own the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Patrick Gallager. I own the house,” he answers impatiently. “It would be in your best interest to let me in the house before I toss your ass out to the curb.” He looks over her shoulder, trying to look into the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi sighs and steps aside to let him in. Patrick says nothing as he moves into the living room. “Where’s Fiona?” he asks, looking around the place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not here at the moment,” Sammi says, walking around to her boxes, placing things into them. Sammi closes the box and moves to the next one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know when she is going to be back?” Patrick questions, watching her as she continued on packing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s gonna be a while before she gets back,” Sammi responds, labeling bedroom on the top flap of the box. “I don’t really care to be honest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick lets out another long impatient sigh. “Well, can you call her to get back here?” he asks next. “The rent check is late again, and I want my money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Sammi says, looking up from her boxes. “I don’t have her number and sorry to hear about your rent,” she turns to pick something up off the floor and stuffs it into a garbage bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These fucking people,” Patrick grumbles, looking around the house. “They have been nothing but a major pain in my ass. I wish I can get rid of them so I don’t have to deal with them anymore or at least this fucking house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi nods, turning to look at him. “Do you have any options?” she asks curiously. “Or look to see how you can make that happen?” Sammi can see something on his face and wonders if she is picking up on what he means by that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have been looking and found a few ideas,” Patrick answers, raising an eyebrow at her. “Why?” he asks, slowly allowing her to connect the dots of her suspicion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi smiles as motions him to follow her into the kitchen. “Why don’t you tell me what those ideas are and maybe we can figure something out,” she suggests lightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick looks at her for a second, considering her words. “You want to help me?” he asks her, his voice is laced with suspicion. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It just sounds like you need some help,” Sammi smiles, playing the cap of the soda. “I also have a little bit of knowledge when it comes to property issues.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nods slowly and eyes the messy kitchen. “How much is this going to cost me?” he questions, bringing his eyes back to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi thinks about this for a minute. “I’m sure we can work something out,” she replies, feeling a bit excited because these people need to pay for her poor boy being stuck in that place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I don’t do it? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi crosses her arms and shrugs her shoulders. “I can always slip them a little warning about your true intentions,” she answers smugly, and when his face sinks at her threat, Sammi knows she is getting her way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi is walking through the house, trying to make sure that she isn’t going to leave anything behind when she leaves. She looks under the couch, grimacing at the sight under her before getting up and goes up the stairs. She does another check through what used to be her bedroom and sees nothing that catches her eyes. She checks the bathroom as well, and she is good there too. Sammi stretches her arms, feeling her joint pop from overworking today. Sammi walks through the hall going through her mental note, making sure everything on her list has been completed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi stops outside the door of Debbie’s room. She is probably the only one of this family she is going to miss. She did enjoy their little girl powwows because it was nice doing something with someone who isn’t a male for once. She can hear voices on the other side of the door, but it doesn’t keep her from knocking on the wood. The voices quiet down, and she opens the door to see the faces of Debbie, Mickey, and Liam look in her direction. Seeing who it is, two of the faces break into icy glares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You keep popping up everywhere,” Mickey sneers, rolling his eyes at the sight of her. “You are like that fuckin’ stain you want gone and can’t get rid of.” Sammi ignores Mickey and turns to Debbie, who glaring at Sammi from her spot on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” Debbie asks her. The chill in her voice is enough to make the temperature in the room drop. “Haven’t you done enough already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To let you know that I am almost done packing,” Sammi says slowly, watching the teen push the computer off her legs and standing beside Mickey, who is watching her through icy hostile eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good riddance. The sooner you are gone, the better,” Debbie snaps, folding her arms around her middle. Sammi hates that Debbie is uncomfortable in her presence. It makes her stomach clench. “Get out of my room,” Debbie demands, darting forward to close her door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Debbie,” Sammi places her hand around the edge of the door to keep Debbie from shutting her out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Debbie shakes her head, shoving into the door, making it budge slightly. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say,” she spats, refusing to look Sammi in the eyes. “Now, leave me the hell alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>” Debbie, listen to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Debbie pushes on the door some more. “There is nothing you can say to me,” she breathes as she uses most of her strength against Sammi’s super hold on the door. “Just go away!” Debbie’s voice breaks under her words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Debbie…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey decides to intervene by placing a hand on the door above Debbie’s head. “The kid is telling you to fucking leave, so that means it’s time for you to fuckin’ leave. If she has to ask you again, I will do it the fuck myself, and you don’t want me to do that,” he shoots quickly with heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi lifts her gaze to Mickey’s face. She wants to slam her heel into that ugly face of his. It would feel good to break something in his body. “Are you threatening me?” Sammi tightens her jaw. “You might want to be careful about who you threaten, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mickey snickers coldly at her. “You can take it any way you’d fucking like Bitch,” he says, pressing on the door. “Maybe you can learn how to fucking listen when someone is telling you that they don’t want you around. It means piss the fuck off. How about you do her a favor and leave tonight? Take your shit, and don’t let the fucking door hit you on the way out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sammi takes a deep breath and turns back to Debbie, who is nodding along to everything that fucking guy is saying. Sammi opens up her mouth to say something, but Debbie drops a few words before hers can leave her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are nothing to me now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is nothing else she can say, so Sammi nods her head and closes the door. Sammi closes her eyes, trying to calm the feelings of hurt. Sammi starts to walk away but pauses when she hears voices on the other side of the door. She leans in closer and listens to Debbie, spouts things out in a rant, and one thing strikes her, getting her angry. Sammi pushes away as an idea comes to her mind. Sammi hurries down the stairs to grab her keys and walks out of the house. She pulls the zipper up on her jacket as she crosses the street. When she is far enough away from the house, Sammi pulls her phone out to call a good friend of hers who owes her a very big favor.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading. I will have the next chapter posted soon.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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